Just a Pretty Face
by Lady Seraphina Lightwood
Summary: When she turned away, she became no more than just another pretty face.


**Just a Pretty Face**

"_Oh, perhaps it's all a dream and make believe_

_Oh, the last of all my dreams but still leave me."_

Imagine Dragons.

The choices Susan made may have been foolish, at least in the eyes of her siblings. But in the little world of England, she chose the route that appeared to the best for success, at least to her. She regarded her siblings, living in their dream-world, and scoffed at them. She would be the one to make something of herself, be a real beauty, be a _success_, in the world to which she should belong.

She knew of course, that in England, a pretty dress, make-up, and a clear complexion were weapons to vanquish any enemy standing in her path. She knew that with these tools alone, defeat was an impossibility.

When she came home from America, and the little ones from Aunt Alberta's house, Lucy asked Susan to come reminisce about Narnia with the boys and herself.

Susan looked her little sister in the eyes and said, "Oh, dearest, do you still insist on playing that little game? I ought to have known you and Edmund would keep on with it, but darling, you are getting old for that, don't you think?"

Then she turned her eyes on Peter, staring at her open-mouthed, and used words to cut him.

"Peter," she said, and gave a tinkling little laugh that sounded false to her own ears, "you really must stop encouraging them so. Why, you're seventeen now, surely you know better! All three of you are getting far too old to play pretend."

Susan ignored Edmund entirely and walked away from them to find her mother.

She would forget Narnia, if it was the last thing she ever did, Susan vowed to herself, and she would not live in a dream world like they did.

* * *

After only a short time, Susan was thriving. She'd built her very existence on the joy of being pretty, and what a good decision it was! How silly her three siblings were, to drag themselves down and constantly try to remember that stupid little game they used to play! No, she'd never be like them.

She was only sixteen, she had superb health and energy, and she had more girlfriends than anyone she knew, along with several very handsome beaux, who tried so hard to make her welcome and integrate her into the parties and social life.

They did a splendid job, but if they fell a little short, surely it was not their fault. No one could rid her of that little ache in her heart when her siblings spoke of that game, though she couldn't imagine why it was there. To compensate, she threw her whole self into her social life, heart and soul.

And she was pretty. She was even fussed over by her beaux. They fussed about her food and getting her refreshments at parties; they wanted to drive her about; they wanted her safe in their sight.

Not only did everyone admire her, even the girls, but they frequently told her they did. She was always complimented graciously on her high-spiritedness, her figure, her little hands and tiny feet, her white skin, her vivacious blue eyes, her long hair. When they complimented her, both girls and men petted her, hugging and and kissing her cheeks to emphasize their love.

Now it wasn't that Susan was interested in their caresses, but she did so love their compliments, and basked in them. None of her family had ever once said such sweet and charming things about her. Actually, Eustace always tried to deflate her conceit.

But sometimes, the person beneath this came out, and Susan found it difficult to smile at them. She thought some of her new friends the silliest of girls. Their vagueness and empty chattering did annoy her to no end sometimes. And some of the men were absolute cads, she had to admit, but they were just so handsome and so fond of her; how could she say no?

Sometimes it did hurt, as well, to return home and see her siblings ignore her. Even sweet little Lucy had ceased begging Susan to join them in their Friends of Narnia meetings. Edmund rarely spared a glance for her. When Peter did, it was only sad and disappointed, and he never asked her to sit with them or talk.

But even if they had, Susan wasn't quite sure what the purpose of the meetings were. Why, she asked herself, was it so hard for them to let go of the past and accept it as a stupid game, nothing more?

She knew the answer inside herself, somewhere deep down – it _wasn't _a game. Once upon a time she had ruled Narnia with them, she had been Gentle. She had known it was real.

But when she had these thoughts, she merely shook them off and returned to her new self – her successful self, her new life, her new friends, and she turned her back on her siblings and on Aslan himself.

Try as she might, the truth would remain with her.

Once upon a time, Susan Pevensie had been more than this.

But now, she chose her path. She chose this. She would be more than her siblings. She would make a wild success of herself and her parents would be proud. She would marry and have little children and be a great lady like her mother had wanted. She wasn't a queen.

Susan Pevensie was just another pretty face.


End file.
